


Define Me

by AllTheFeels



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Hurt No Comfort, Jughead is a good friend, Just implied/referenced, Like, Maybe some Jughead/Archie if you squint, Other, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, This is just sad Archie, it's not explicit, squint really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheFeels/pseuds/AllTheFeels
Summary: He knows what word is in the dictionary next to his name.





	Define Me

There's something disgusting about it. Besides the obvious, that is.

But there's something about it that leaves him awake late at night, eyes sore, right hand touching the left where he had, like an idiot, carved the word that kept popping up in his head. And, given that it's on his palm, nobody has noticed. 

Whore.

Sure, it's not his fault. None of what happened was his fault. But it takes two to tango, right? Even subconsciously, something must have...there must have been something. He should have known that existing in his skin, especially with...well, everything, would be dangerous. He shouldn't have. He shouldn't have existed like that. And so what if he can't handle touch anymore? So what if he grits his teeth and deals with it, even though it feels like static and broken nails. He's supposed to like it. 

 

Maybe he really is a whore. Not in the traditional sense, but maybe in a special way that's meant only for him. If he had a dictionary of things that mean different things for him, "whore" would be the definition under his name.

Grundy would be static. Broken nails. The taste of blood. Bile.

But whore? That would be him.

No matter how much he knows that sure, logically, he isn't a whore. He's not.

But what if he is?

What if?

His phone buzzes, a quick distraction, but he just feels sicker. It's Jughead, because of course it is. The only person he could ever trust to talk to when he's like this, the person who reassures him that everything he feels is valid and understandable. Even if it feels like it isn't.

It's 1:33 in the morning, and Jughead is being comforting in the only way he knows how. He's writing paragraphs, explaining that he doesn't really like touch but it's okay when Archie touches him because he trusts him. It's meant to make him feel better but it just makes him feel sick. He shouldn't be touching Jughead. It'll make him dirty.

The kind of dirty Jughead could shower away, not the ingrained kind of dirty he is. But it bothers him. Jug is too good for that. 

He rolls over, pushes his phone away. Rubs his eyes, ignoring the way his left hand aches. The word in his palm is infected for sure, but he doesn't really want to do anything about it. Maybe, just maybe, if he lets it get bad enough, it'll consume him until all that's left of him is just that one word.

Whore.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, using Archie to cope with my own shit? Surely not. 100% not. Nope.


End file.
